The Snake and the Slytherin
by Celinarose
Summary: In which Tom Riddle makes a semblance of a friend.


"Open," you hiss, in a language few wizards would understand. You glance around the empty bathroom, checking one last time that the wards around it are secure. You know there are some among the teachers who suspect you, despite the near perfect act you have put up.

The castle meekly recognises your authority, as it should, opening the dark chasm beneath your feet, where the stone sink stood just a few moments ago. As the seemingly endless stairs form, the eagerness in you grows. The built up anticipation of all the years for which you have searched for this enchanted remnant of your greatest ancestor reveals itself in the determined, alluring glow at the tip of your wand that you hold out in front of you.

You descend the steps and into the corridor, mesmerised by the fact that this sacred space has been untouched for years, centuries even, by man or beast. Rightly so, you think, for it has been waiting for you, waiting, for someone worthy enough to unravel the mystery and wrench its secrets from it. The dusty walls reek of the failed attempts through the years gone by. You allow a small smile in your victory, though you know your work has only begun. The Chamber will help you to accomplish what you have dreamt of, ever since you left the cramped orphanage where no one recognised you for what you were. The muggles breed true, you know, and the magic in mudbloods are a farce. One that the entire Wizarding world seems to believe despite all the efforts of numerous people, chief among them the brilliant Salazar Slytherin.

The corridor opens into the large, dim cavern that you have read about. The stone pillars rise up around you, engraved with serpents. On the far side, stands a statue of Slytherin himself, proud as the master of the chamber and the giant snake that lives in the hollow of his mouth. The creature looks at you curiously, slowly slithering from the statue onto the stone ground. Its emerald green scales glisten, even in the dull illumination. You gaze at it, nearly entranced by the golden eyes that would have been deadly for anyone but the Heir. It slides towards you, drawn, as a moth to a flame. It knows you from the blood that runs in your veins, and bows to you, as its Master.

You reach out a hand to touch it, as it coils its long body around you. It comes to rest, facing you, not once removing its gaze from yours. You lean against the meanders of the serpent, and it bows its head to you, hissing in obeisance.

* * *

You walk through the now familiar passage, cursing under your breath. That old coot, Dumbledore, wants the school closed, permanently. Just because a few filthy mudbloods were petrified. They deserved to be! They deserved to be killed, even. You know he doesn't trust you, and it infuriates you, because you did try, for a long time, to endear yourself to him. The Headmaster's mind has also been filled by Dumbledore's thoughts, and you know that if you do not do something soon, you will have to return to that disgusting Muggle orphanage.

You ascend the stone steps with an odd feeling. Something is wrong, and you can feel it.

The "something" turns out to be the figure of Myrtle Warren, standing to face you as you climb up. Instantly, anger washes over you at her boldness. How had she broken through your wards? More importantly, how dare she?

On the other hand, a small fear gnaws at you as you remember why you put up the wards in the first place. Myrtle is known to be a tattletale. If she reveals your little secret, as her face says she will, there will be dire consequences for you.

You move to place your hand on your wand inadvertently, intending to simply Avada Kedavra the Mudblood, but stop midway. A small smile plays on your lips as you tilt your head. The Ravenclaw, unaware of your plans, is looking at you accusingly.

"I knew it, Riddle!" she says. "Why don't you go use your own toilet? No Chambers of Secrets there, are they?"

You simply look back at her, as she starts rambling.

"Oh I know why you're here! I'm not dumb. I had looked up everything about the Chamber when Headmaster Dippet had announced…"

You tune her out, but you can't help but notice that her voice sounds unusually chirpy for someone who is going to die in a few moments. Then again, she isn't aware of the fact that she won't be living much longer. Hiding your annoyance, you put on your most charming smile, the one that has the Slytherins swooning over you.

It doesn't have as much of an effect as you'd like, but it works nonetheless. You try a further tactic.

"She's beautiful, you know," you drawl, looking straight into her eyes.

"Who is?" Myrtle asks, confused, and somewhat annoyed that you broke her tirade.

"The basilisk. She's not like they say she is. Not many can claim to have seen her," you say, lowering your voice secretively.

Her eyes widen in amazement, as you hoped they would. She is a Ravenclaw, after all. You can use her insatiable curiosity to your advantage.

Emboldened, but still somewhat hesitant, she steps forward a few inches. You nod imperceptibly, smiling to encourage her.

"Wouldn't you like to see? One of the wizarding world's most powerful creatures…" you trail off.

A sudden doubt creeps back into her eyes and she leans back with a start, almost as if she is breaking out of a trance.

"She will not hurt you," you assure her, laying an arm on her shoulder. She flinches lightly at the touch, but noticeably calms down eventually.

You draw her closer, comfortingly, guiding her towards the entrance to the chamber, wordlessly setting up your wards with your other hand as you do so. You hiss softly into the abyss, and the basilisk echoes a response from deep within it. Myrtle stands quietly at your side, almost shivering, and you hold her arm to soothe her excitement and fear.

The hissing from the Chamber increases in intensity, until you can see the glimmering scales rise from the entrance. You smirk, and tighten your grasp on the mudblood's wrist, lest she think of running away. She does not move a hair, paralysed.

The Basilisk twists arounds, hissing, to look at Myrtle. The girl lets out an ear splitting scream that makes you glad that you had the foresight to you put a Silencio around the room.

In a few seconds, she is lying on the floor, pale and cold, her expression twisted, permanently, into one of horror. You bend down, to touch her ashen face, and pick up her bloodless wrist, just in case. Satisfied that she won't be a problem for you anymore, you command the snake to return to the cavern, making sure it is sealed before you leave.

As you walk back to your dorm as silently as you can, you watch a small, brown spider scurry across the floor and up the dimly lit wall, and suddenly, you know exactly how to shut old Dumbledore up.

* * *

 ** _Notes: Written for the HP creatures fest 2017. A big thank you to my beta, R.S. for reading through this, and to the mods for organising this lovely fest!_**


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